


Draw, aim, breathe, fire (Seven Seconds of Shooting)

by Clair de Lune (clair_de_lune)



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Community: uncuffmybrother, Gen, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 06:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clair_de_lune/pseuds/Clair%20de%20Lune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later, she will feel as though it all happened in half a second. (Season 4)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draw, aim, breathe, fire (Seven Seconds of Shooting)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Seventh Anniversary challenge at [uncuffmybrother](http://uncuffmybrother.livejournal.com).

Later, she will feel as though it all happened in half a second.

It doesn’t. It lasts a few seconds.

—

One. Draw. She’s swift. She pulls the gun out of the waistband of her jeans in one fluid, quick motion. It seems as if she’s done this her whole life.

Two. Aim. Her hand isn’t shaking. Her hand should be shaking, shouldn’t it, when she’s aiming at her almost-mother-in-law, who herself is aiming at her son. But her hand isn’t shaking, not even a quiver.

Three, four, five. Breathe and listen to the hateful logorrhea falling from Christina Rose Scofield’s lips. Because, you see, maybe this is what Christina Rose Scofield does for a living – shooting people – but that’s not what Sara Tancredi does. Event though, lately, it has looked like it was. So Sara wants to make sure she doesn’t have another option than shooting her almost-mother-in-law in the back.

Six. Fire. Really, nothing much to say, except mentioning the jerk in her arm at the concussive kick, and the fact that it’s relief that washes over her, not horror or dread. Horror or dread will come later. Maybe. For now, Christina’s dead, and Michael’s alive, and Sara’s relieved.

Seven. Meet Michael’s eyes. He’s tearing up; she’s not.

—

One of the longest seven seconds of her life, and yet, later, she will feel as though it all happened in less than no time.

END


End file.
